The Heart of the Matter
by angel74
Summary: One shot, AU. A few years after the end of the war, Harry comes across his estranged aunt and cousin. How does Harry handle the encounter and what family secrets will finally be revealed?


**The Heart of the Matter**

**By:** angel74

**Summary: **One shot, AU. A few years after the end of the war, Harry comes across his estranged aunt and cousin. How does Harry handle the encounter and what family secrets will finally be revealed?

**Note:** This story serves as an epilogue to both _**Shattered Illusions**_ and _**She's Come Undone**_. _**Shattered Illusions**_is a HP/RW romance that takes place the summer after GoF. (Yes, it is slash!) _**SI**_mainly deals with the Weasleys and the Order discovering Harry's secret about his abusive home life after a terrifying car accident, but there are also many twists and turns along the way- including an encounter with Voldemort. _**She's Come Undone**_ is Petunia's story of what happens to her in the aftermath of Vernon's trial in _**SI**_ and is mainly a tale of domestic abuse.

_**The Heart of the Matter**_ takes place six years into the future, so Harry and Ron will be twenty-one. Each of the previous stories were written in a completely different perspectives, which I had to reconcile in order to write this one. After much deliberation, I decided to use third person omniscient, which is quite experimental for me. I hope you like the story, and I know this has been a long time coming. If you are not familiar with either story or if it has been a while since you read them, you may want to check them out once more. I think the epilogue will make sense without the reread but it would probably help. Hopefully it will explain a lot of unanswered reviewer questions. Well… enjoy!

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><p>Today was like almost any other Sunday this past summer- hot, muggy, and decidedly predictable and ordinary. The blaring sun hung listlessly against the bright blue sky, which was dotted by only a few wispy clouds. It had to be the hottest day of the year. Although the forecast called for rain later, there wasn't a trace of a rain cloud on the horizon. The air hung heavily in the windless atmosphere adding to the oppressive heat.<p>

Petunia sighed deeply as she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and took in the scene before her. The large crowds that gathered in the open market each Sunday seemed to follow a sort of current, that ebbed and flowed around each grower's stand. She watched the happy families as they took their time surveying produce or various potted plants, seemingly carefree. They reminded her of a time in her life- one that was much happier- that had long past. It was all she could do not to dwell on the unpleasantness that occurred only a few years later.

The tent Petunia was sitting beneath provided little relief from the intense heat, though it did offer ample amounts of shade. It was positioned in the center of the market and offered ideal people watching opportunities. In boredom, she had begun to play a little game in which she tried to predict what various customers would purchase based on first impressions. She admittedly was not very good at it, but it passed the time.

Petunia had lived in this part of Scotland now for nearly six years, having been taken in by her old childhood pen pal Abigail. Thankfully she and Dudley had been able to rebuild their lives in the wake of the mess that was created after that wretched car accident.

After much encouragement she had taken a job at Abigail's greenhouse, which was situated on her friend's farm. Although she always made the boy tend to the weeds in the garden, it had been under her own tender loving care that the flowerbeds and bloomed into fantastic displays. She had been rather proud of her garden in Surrey and had hosted many a garden party for the gardening club she had once belonged to. It seemed her little hobby had served her well because it had later become an employment opportunity.

She had taken the job out of necessity more than anything else. Abigail had been kind enough to take her in give her a home, but she certainly couldn't ask her friend to support her completely. The least she could do was work for her. Having worked as a waitress when Vernon had been out of work, she tried her hand at it again in town near to Abigail's place, but found that she didn't have the right attitude to earn the kind of tips she needed.

Petunia had never worked before that, never needed to, so she didn't have a lot other of skills that were marketable. Her duties at the greenhouse were to mainly take care of the plants, but she was also required every Sunday during the summer months to bring the flowers to the local market to sell to the large crowds that gathered there in the afternoon.

Petunia didn't mind the work really. It paid well enough and she enjoyed her job for the most part, but Sundays always seemed… taxing. She was required to load and unload the truck on her own, sit in the near sweltering heat all afternoon beneath a small tent, answer endless questions from her patrons regarding hybridization and cross pollination, and handle transactions. Some customers tried to haggle down the price of the flowers, but Petunia was always unwavering. Didn't people understand that the price listed is the actual price they would be required to pay? She wasn't selling used cars, these were flowers for goodness sakes! Honestly… customer service really wasn't her forte, which was probably why she had never done well at her previous job as a waitress.

She wiped away another bead of sweat from her brow and fanned herself with a spare bit of paper. She had grown out her hair these last few years and she had thankfully remembered to pull it back in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Petunia had forgotten to one Sunday and found her hair unpleasantly sticking to her neck for the better part of the day. At least she was allowed to wear a pair of shorts and a purple t-shirt bearing the greenhouse logo that was her uniform on most days. It was comfortable enough and she didn't need to worry about ruining any of her other clothes when she loaded and unloaded the van.

She gave a false smile to a young woman passing by with a baby stroller that had given her a polite wave while she cooed at her child. Petunia sighed deeply, hating that she seemed so blissfully ignorant. Someday that woman would realize just how difficult motherhood really is. She was beginning to loathe Sundays! Just when she began to feel sorry for herself, a familiar voice appeared behind her. "Hey Mum."

"Dudley," she said excitedly, turning to see her son duck under the tent. "You're back early!"

Her Duddykins was such a handsome and strapping young man, at least in Petunia's opinion. He'd finally lost some of his baby fat and had begun to build some muscle as he continued to pursue boxing at the local community college.

"Yeah, Shelia had something to do with her family at church, so I asked her to bring me back home in time for dinner," he explained.

Petunia sensed that he was a bit disappointed, since the weekends were really the only time he could spend with his girlfriend as they went to different colleges. She smiled at her son hoping to put him at ease.

"Well, I'm glad you did. How did you get here?" she asked, knowing that Dudley had yet to save for a car.

He had quit his last job only last week and had probably spent the last of his money this weekend. He had always had trouble holding down a job. He usually blamed it on his employer or complained about how work interfered with his schooling, but Petunia knew better. His lack of work ethic mainly had to do with how she had raised him. At one time she had been able to provide Dudley with a pampered lifestyle in which he never had to do chores- at least until he was fifteen- and as such he had yet to understand the importance of providing for oneself. She had learned that herself the hard way. Despite Dudley's shortcomings, Petunia believed in her son and knew that he'd learn in time.

"Abbey brought me in the car. She's around here somewhere," said Dudley, looking around for their benefactor. "Said she was picking some stuff up for dinner and that she'll bring the van around in a little bit to help load everything up."

Petunia nodded gratefully; glad that she would have some assistance today.

"Well, how was your weekend? Did you get much studying done during your visit?" she asked, knowing that he probably hadn't studied at all.

Dudley entered into a long explanation of his weekend. While Petunia listened her eyes darted across the crowd, making sure to pay attention to any potential customers that came their way. The crowd was waning as it neared the end of the afternoon and it was then she spotted him.

It was like seeing a ghost and it sucked her breath away. Despite the heat, Petunia suddenly felt chilled to the bone. Dudley was oblivious to it all and continued to chatter on about his time with his girlfriend. She watched as the ghost visited various stands, purchasing fruits and vegetables. Just as Dudley's retelling came to an end, the ghost came up to their little tent.

But it was not a ghost. Not at all. He had the same build, same messy black hair, and almost the same glasses as her long dead brother-in-law. But this man's eyes were bright green, not blue.

It was the boy- but not quite a boy anymore.

They both stared at each other in utter shock. Both their lips parted, but neither said a thing for fear that if anything were said it might scare the other away, although that would probably be more preferable. Dudley, who had finally seemed to notice that she wasn't listening to him anymore, looked at his mother and then back at their visitor. His pale blue eyes nearly bugged out in disbelief.

"Oh…" he said slowly, his eyes now blinking slowly as if he were trying to determine if he should really believe what he was seeing.

"Hello," Harry finally said, finding his voice and looking quite nervous.

Harry was so much taller than the scrawny little waif she remembered. Petunia couldn't get over how grown up he looked, and then remembered that he was the same age as Dudley. Twenty one. There was still a certain boyishness about him, but his eyes betrayed the fact that in some ways he was much older than his years. For the first time, she actually wondered what had happened to her nephew since she had last seen him.

"How are you?" he continued, glancing between them anxiously as he shifted his bag of groceries from one arm to the other.

Petunia found that her mouth had gone dry and that even if she could speak that she wouldn't know what to say. She just stared at her estranged nephew as if he had spontaneously grown horns out of his head. She couldn't get over how "normal" he looked. She didn't know what she would have expected, but certainly not to see the young man dressed in a pair of loose khaki shorts, a green polo shirt, and a pair of sandals. _Didn't wizards wear robes? What was he doing here?_

"Fine," Dudley replied for her, seeing that she was not going to make an effort to respond. "And you?"

"Fine," Harry replied quickly.

"It's been a long while…" Dudley began.

Harry began to nod and then noticed another woman had joined them beneath the tent. She was the same height as Petunia and wore a long floral print sundress that was a little worn around the edges. There was a certain ruggedness to her appearance despite her gentle features, suggesting she was accustomed to hard labor. Her soft brown hair was peppered with gray and pulled back into a French braid.

"You all seem to know each other," Abigail said pleasantly. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled at them all brightly. "Who's this?"

Petunia opened her mouth to respond, but still found that she could not speak.

"This is my cousin, Harry," said Dudley politely. "Harry, this is Abigail."

"Hello Harry," said Abigail, extending her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Harry shook the woman's hand, not knowing what to make of her. "Hello," he said.

Abigail seemed to size all of them up and noticed the uneasy tension. "Since it's been so long since you've all seen each other, why don't you come to our house for dinner Harry," she said, looking at him earnestly. "We will be eating around six o'clock."

"Dinner?" he asked uncertainly. "W-well… I did have other plans, but I might to be able to get out of it…." Harry looked at Petunia, who was still silently floundering, and then to Dudley.

"You should come," Dudley said simply, shrugging his shoulders. Abigail nodded and smiled at him encouragingly.

"O-okay," said Harry, not really aware of what he was saying. The woman standing before him seemed so kind that he couldn't bear to say no.

"Lovely," said Abigail, reaching into her hand bag for a business card. She found one and handed it to him. "This is our address. We live in the house beside the greenhouse. Do you think you can find it?"

"I think I can," said Harry, shifting the weight of the groceries to his other arm as he looked over the card.

"Alright. Then it's settled," she said turning away to examine a few of the displays.

No one said anything for a long while. Harry could feel their unwavering stares of his relatives and knew he should probably leave, but his feet felt rooted to the ground. Harry looked around at the flowers in the tent for lack of anything else to do.

"May I purchase some flowers?" Harry asked quietly, suddenly remembering why he had come to their tent in the first place.

"Of course," replied Abigail as she glanced at her watch. "Petunia will assist you… I need to pull the van around. Be back in a jiff!"

Petunia looked at her departing friend and then back at her nephew in disbelief. Giving her a wary glance, Harry began to move through the tent looking at the displays.

"What are you looking for?" Dudley asked, trying to make conversation.

"Not sure. I will know when I see it," Harry replied. He bypassed the flats and hanging baskets of flowers until he settled upon the bouquets.

"May I buy that bouquet?" he asked quietly, pointing to a dozen pink roses.

Petunia nodded and then finding her voice said, "Ten pounds, please."

Harry looked at her in surprise, clearly not expecting her to respond after her awkward silence. He fished a ten pound note from his wallet. He handed it to her and Dudley handed him the bouquet.

"We'll see you later?" Dudley asked, sounding almost hopeful.

Harry nodded in spite of the anxiety he was feeling inside. Balancing the bag of groceries and the bouquet in his arms, he backed away. He spared his relatives one final glance before turning around and walking away quickly. He walked for nearly a mile, replaying what had just happened over and over in his head trying to make sense of it all. He walked until he was sure he was clear of any Muggles and then Apparated home.

Arriving in the foyer, he walked slowly across the modest flat he shared with Ron and set the things he had purchased on the counter in the kitchen. He had no idea where Ron was right now, but that was okay. He didn't know if he could put into words what had happened this afternoon yet. Feeling rather out of sorts, Harry slumped down at the kitchen table, staring unseeingly at the grain in the wood as he fingered the business card he had been given by Abigail. He had no idea how long he had sat there. It could have been a few minutes or several hours.

"Being lazy I see."

Harry was so lost in thought that he hadn't even heard Ron enter the kitchen, or that he had apparently begun to put away the fruits and vegetables he had purchased. Surprised by the sudden voice in the room, Harry looked up in confusion. Seeing his partner's face he smiled softly and said, "I guess."

"Tired?" Ron asked as he opened the refrigerator.

"Uhn," he replied, noncommittally, still turning the card over in his fingers.

Ron gave him a strange look and but then shrugged his shoulders and finished putting everything away.

"Are those for Mum?" he asked, pointing to the flowers.

Harry nodded and then continued his study of the wood grain before him, noticing how the lines seemed to swirl around a knot.

"Alright, what is it? What's wrong?" Ron asked intuitively as he sat down heavily in the chair next to Harry.

"Nothing," Harry said quietly. "Not really."

"Then why do you look as though someone died?"

Harry didn't respond.

"_Did_ someone die?" Ron asked softy, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. They were no strangers to loss having experienced so much of it during the war.

Harry shook his head. "I ran into my aunt and my cousin today," he finally answered.

"Oh," said Ron, clearly shocked. "Oh… at the farmer's market?"

Harry nodded.

"How'd that go?"

"Not as I would have expected."

"What do you mean?"

Harry looked up at Ron and said, "I sort of got an invitation to dinner."

"What? Really?"

"Yeah."

"When?"

Harry didn't say anything, knowing that Ron would be disappointed.

"It's tonight, isn't it?"

Harry nodded once more.

"But tonight is Mum and Dad's anniversary party! It's been planned for ages."

Harry sighed. "I know."

Ron laughed softly, taking Harry's response to mean something else. "Well, at least you were able to get out of that horrid dinner. Can you imagine how awkward that would have been?"

"You're right, it probably will be," Harry said softly, hoping that Ron would get his meaning.

"Wait… what? So you're going?" Ron asked incredulously.

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry."

"You're going?" Ron asked again, not quite comprehending. "But you already had other plans!"

"I know but I think your parents would understand."

"You got to be kidding me! How are you going there? Are you mad?"

"Yeah, I guess so…"

Ron jumped out of seat in frustration and began to pace the kitchen irritably. "So you're just going to blow off your family!"

"It's not like that!" Harry yelled, jumping out of his seat and taking offense. He loved the Weasleys dearly and it hurt that Ron would think that of him. "This is just something I need to do."

"Why?" Ron asked, looking completely dumbfounded.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Just because, okay," Harry retorted crossly, turning to leave the kitchen and noting the time from the clock on the wall.

Ron grabbed him by the wrist and turned him back around. "We need to discuss this."

"I can't right now. I'm due for dinner in less than an hour and I still need to shower," he said, ripping his arm out of Ron's grasp.

"I don't get it. Why are you doing this? Why would you subject yourself to this?"

"I'm not subjecting myself to anything."

"Yes you are!"

"What are you talking about?" said Harry, growing more and more agitated.

Ron took a deep breath before he began. "That woman treated you like garbage! She abandoned you the first chance she got without so much as a goodbye, and she never looked back!"

Harry was taken aback by the rudeness of his words. Every word was true, but it hurt for Ron to remind him of all that. "Thanks Ron, you're real supportive!"

"Yes, I am!" he retorted angrily. "My family and I supported you when those wretched people hurt you and left you in the awful Muggle hospital! I supported you throughout the entire war! And I supported you when you woke up screaming in the night and held you until morning! I have always supported you! Those people have done nothing to help or care for you!"

"I know all that so shut up, Ron!"

"No! Not after everything they've done to you! I care about you too much to let you do this to yourself!"

"You don't know what you're talking about…"

"Yes, I do! How could you possibly want to go to dinner with them?"

"B-because I need to know!" Harry yelled, tears filling his eyes.

"Know what?" Ron asked, his voice leveling off now. He had noticed the stutter in Harry's voice and realized that it had been a long while since he heard it.

"Why they treated me like that! Why I didn't d-deserve their love!"

What was left of Ron's resolve shattered with those words. His entire demeanor softened and he stepped forward to embrace the distraught man in front of him. He placed a kiss on Harry's temple and held him tightly.

"You did deserve their love," he said determinedly. "They were just too blinded by their hatred of our world to see it."

Harry rested his head on Ron's chest and breathed in his familiar scent, letting it calm him. He felt safe here in his arms and could almost forget his awful childhood. When he felt centered once more, he pulled back and looked into Ron's eyes.

"I don't know why, but I need to do this. I need some sort of closure, you know? I never got that the first time around."

"This will end badly and you know it," Ron said, carding his fingers through Harry's messy hair. He wasn't saying this to be hurtful, just stating an undeniable fact. "I don't want to see you hurt again…"

"I appreciate that, but I'm still going to go."

"I figured as much. Once you set your mind to something, there is no swaying you." Ron replied, kissing Harry on the lips. "Do you want me to go with you?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. He couldn't bear it if Ron saw how his family actually treated him. It was one thing for Ron to hear about it, but it was quite another to witness it first hand. "I need to do this on my own."

Ron looked reluctant about letting him go, but nodded anyway. He knew he wouldn't be able to change his lover's mind.

"I'll be here when you get home." He wanted to say "_to pick up the pieces again_," but it wasn't necessary. "Or still at the Burrow, depending on how long you're at dinner."

Harry smiled gratefully and headed towards their master bedroom to shower.

Ron sat back down at the table and lowered his head into his arms. He hoped for the Dursleys' sake that they were kind to Harry, or there would be hell to pay.

"Abbey what were you thinking?" Petunia asked as soon as her friend had returned with the van.

Abigail ignored her and opened up the rear doors so that they could begin loading the flowers that hadn't sold today.

"Why did you invite him to dinner?" she asked, pursuing the issue with a ferocity she hadn't felt in a long while.

Abigail whirled around to face her. "Why didn't _you_?" she questioned.

Petunia didn't know how to reply. She hadn't told her much about what had happened with Harry. Abigail of course knew about the abuse she had suffered at Vernon's hands, and about the accident and the subsequent trials. But she had left out most of the details of her estrangement with her nephew for obvious reasons. As far as Abigail knew Harry had run away and never looked back.

"You don't understand the situation," Petunia finally said.

"Listen, I know I don't know much… but I do know this," said Abigail, filled with conviction. "Bad blood breeds bad Karma. Whatever is left unresolved in this life will follow you into the next. So I'm giving you an opportunity to clear the air. Alright?"

Petunia didn't know what to say, so she pursed her lips and began to load the van quietly. She was relieved to find that Dudley and Abigail were helping her because she usually did this job on her own. For once she didn't mind the back aching labor and focused all her energy into her task. She didn't want to dwell on what had happened with the boy in the past, or what might transpire tonight. It was safer to just stay in denial.

It wasn't like she could stop this awful mess Abigail had sent into motion, anyway. She would uninvite the boy if she could, but she didn't know how to contact him.

After disassembling the tent and placing both it and the collapsible displays into the back of the large van, Dudley climbed into the driver seat. Petunia quietly slid into the passenger seat beside him. Abigail came up to the open window and said, "I'll see you at home, okay?"

Petunia nodded and watched as her friend went to go find the car. Dudley put the van in gear and slowly made his way out of town.

Petunia stared silently out the window, watching the passing scenery without really seeing it. At first, she just felt numb- just numb with shock over the entire situation.

Sensing his mother's unease, Dudley said, "It'll be okay, Mom."

She appreciated the sentiment and gave a waning smile to her son, but it was hard to believe that anything about this situation would be okay. In fact, she was positive that tonight would go horribly, horribly wrong.

As the numbness wore off and reality set in, waves of anxiety and sadness washed over her. Tears sprung to her eyes as she remembered what had transpired all those years ago, and she wished desperately that none of it had happened.

She had put up with Vernon's treatment of the boy, even participating to some extent, hoping that it would make everything right. She had put up with her husband's drunkenness, knowing how stressed he was over losing his job. She had even put up with it when they were dealing with the lawsuits surrounding the car accident. She had put up with his change in behavior, occasionally slapping her around when the boy wasn't there for Vernon to vent his anger out on. She even put up with all the harassing phone calls from debt collectors when they ran out of money to pay their bills.

But something had snapped inside Petunia at the sight of her husband beating their son, especially when he had only been trying to save his own mother from being beaten. Vernon had struck Dudley only once before and she promised herself that she would never let it happen again. Thankfully, Dudley had been able to wrestle his father to the floor. It was in that moment that Petunia knew it was time to leave, no matter the consequences. She simply couldn't put up with it anymore.

No one could ever possibly imagine how difficult that decision was for her. They couldn't know what it means to leave a marriage of seventeen years and or all of the history that comes with it. They couldn't know what it was like for Petunia to have stayed in an abusive relationship for the sake of the man she still loved despite what he had done to her. They couldn't know the fear that she felt whenever she was beaten by Vernon, or the amount of strength it had taken to finally leave him… knowing that she hadn't a dime to her name or any place to go.

It was with great shame that she soon realized had no one to turn to. No family, thanks to that madman had slaughtered her whole family. And no friends. Vernon's increasingly drunken behavior had made it impossible over the last few years to remain close to their few acquaintances.

With no place else to go, they made it to Arabella Figg's house. The elderly woman had watched the boy countless times before and in all those years Petunia had no idea that she was in anyway in contact with the boy's unnatural world. Arabella had somehow contacted those _people_ on their behalf.

They had even offered to heal her, but she had adamantly refused. There was no way she would allow their magic to touch her. To do so would risk everything she had tried so desperately to prevent. Severus had given her some sort of potion, but she had thrown it out the car window the first chance she got. They had even offered her a chance to say goodbye to her nephew, but of course she refused. She didn't want any more reminders of what had transpired. She just wanted to move on.

She and Dudley were taken by car to the train station and were then escorted by train to their final destination. They found Abigail waiting for them on the platform in Scotland. She didn't know how they found her dear sweet Abbey, especially in such a short amount of time. Petunia had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She hadn't seen her childhood friend in over six years, and yet it was like they had never been apart. Abbey, who had lost her husband to cancer a few years ago and had been living alone ever since, had gladly taken them in. She was eternally grateful for all that Abbey had done for her since then and she always would be.

Dudley reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. Again he said, "It'll be okay."

Through her tears Petunia could see the determination in her son's eyes and wondered if maybe he needed this evening more than she did. He had suffered just as much as she had. Maybe he needed closure with his cousin, something he had never really gotten from his father. If this was truly what her Duddykins wanted than Petunia would do her best to make that happen, despite her own displeasure.

She tried her best to smile, but her face fell into yet another frown.

An hour or so later, Harry Apparated to a location just outside the farm and had only had to walk about a half mile or so to reach the mailbox containing the address of the farmhouse.

He found Dudley sitting on the steps leading up to the porch, looking somewhat surprised to see that Harry had just appeared out of thin air. There were very few trees in this area and Harry had accidently Apparated in full view of the house. Dudley didn't seem to be afraid of the magic he just witnessed, more curious than anything else.

Harry approached cautiously, unsure of what to say to do. Years of "Harry Hunting" had conditioned him to fear his cousin, and he didn't really know what to expect this evening. He wasn't really afraid of Dudley now, not really. And he knew the wand in his back pocket would be the only protection he would ever need, but Harry couldn't help but feel trepidation in his heart for what might transpire this evening.

A cool wind swept across the farm, causing Harry to notice the change in the temperature. Glancing to the west he could see dark clouds rolling in and knew that rain was on its way. Turning back to Dudley he could see that his cousin had risen to his feet and was waiting for him.

"Hello," Dudley began.

"H-hello," Harry replied quietly.

"I'm glad you came."

Harry shrugged, unsure of how to respond. Looking uncomfortable, Dudley turned to climb the porch stairs and Harry followed. His cousin made it to the top step before stopping and turning to face Harry once more. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, seeming to choose his words carefully.

"Before we go in, I need to say something."

"Alright," Harry replied.

"I'm sorry."

"What?" Harry asked, slightly flabbergasted. He had never heard Dudley apologize to anyone for anything in his life and wanted to make sure the he had heard correctly.

"I'm sorry. For everything… All that stuff I did to you- I didn't realize what I… no that's not right, I did… I just I now know that it was wrong and I'm sorry. Really I am… I just wanted you to know," he said earnestly, his bright blue eyes shining as he looked for Harry for forgiveness. "Okay?"

"Okay," Harry replied, not knowing if he could truly forgive him yet but feeling as though he had to give some sort of response.

"Okay," Dudley repeated seeming relieved.

They finished climbing the steps and made their way into the farmhouse, the squeaky door clattering loudly as it closed behind them. The house was almost exactly as Harry imagined it might be. There were hardwood floors throughout and hand made braided rugs placed along all the high traffic areas. The house was modestly furnished, a little messy, and overall seemed rather warm and inviting- nothing like the house Petunia used to keep at Number 4 Privet Drive. It went a long way to put Harry at ease.

Abigail heard their arrival and poked her head out of the kitchen. "Ah, you're here just in time. Help me bring the food to the table."

Harry obliged, grateful to have something to do and went into the kitchen. No sooner had he entered and a bowl of mashed potatoes was thrust into his hands. He had only a moment to notice the white washed cupboards, pots and herbs hanging from the ceiling over a large island, and several pans simmering on the stove. He was quickly directed toward the dining room that was adjacent to the kitchen. His aunt was already there, setting out the place settings and adjusting a bowl of orange flowers. He tried to say hello, but was promptly ignored.

Harry was surprised to find both is aunt and Dudley working alongside him as they brought out the bowls of food from the kitchen. As a child it had always been his sole responsibility to do such a task. Although he seemed to still be receiving a cold shoulder from his aunt, he noticed in a lot of ways she had changed.

She looked much older, for one thing. There were lines in her face and her hair was longer than he ever remembered, slightly graying. She now wore a shapeless summer dress, much like the one Abigail was wearing, which was not something he would have seen her wearing in the past.

Dudley had changed too, for that matter. He was much thinner, but by no means in great shape. He also seemed much friendlier, which was probably the oddest thing of all.

Maybe people really can change. That thought alone gave Harry hope.

They quickly finished the task of bringing out the food and everyone sat down to the dinner table. Petunia sat across from Harry, as far away as possible. Abigail sat to Harry's left, Dudley on his right. They soon began passing the bowls of food around, filling their plates. Harry glanced at his aunt but she was purposely looking anywhere but directly at him.

No one said anything for a long while. It seemed that no one really knew what to say to break the tension that was clearly building in the room. Instead they all focused on eating the delicious food their host had prepared.

"So what do you do Harry?" Abigail finally asked, hoping to break the ice.

"I'm sorry?" Harry sputtered as he took a sip of his milk. It had been so long since anyone had spoken that he felt startled the first question was directed at him.

"I asked what you do… for work…" the kind lady probed.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling foolish as he wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Nothing right now-"

Before he could finish, he heard his aunt give a satisfied snort.

Petunia felt somehow validated that the boy had turned out just as she always expected he would- a lay about just like his father. She didn't know if that had been actually true about James, but Lily had always been so vague about whatever work her husband had done that Petunia always assumed the worst about him.

"Well, I did volunteer work for a long while, helping people rebuild their homes. But now I'm in training to be…. a police officer," he said calmly.

"How very noble of you," Abigail replied, sounding impressed.

Harry shrugged and looked at his aunt once more. She seemed to understand that he meant that he was in law enforcement in his world, not in the Muggle one. She pursed her lips in displeasure and glanced away.

After Voldemort was defeated in the final battle, the Wizarding World had been in pieces. Entire villages had been destroyed, Hogwarts was practically in ruins, and there were countless refugee camps desperately trying to heal the wounded and house the homeless. The number of casualties was staggering, and the united grief over losing so many had nearly destroyed what was left of their world. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and so many others tirelessly spent years helping to rebuild and care for what they had once held so dear.

Unfortunately, it took an agonizingly long time for the Wizarding World to finally resemble what it once was. Crime had increased dramatically as less reputable wizards and witches took advantage of such a precarious situation. And of course, there were still Death Eaters to round up that hadn't been killed or captured in battle. Although things had settled down quite a bit once the Ministry had re-established itself and replaced those who had been lost, Harry felt obligated to join the Auror training program. He could have done anything he wanted, especially given who he was. He could have even played Quidditch professionally, but something had drawn him to Auror anyway. Ron inevitably followed and the pair of them only had a few months left in their training.

Hermione had a theory, of course, about Harry's attraction to dangerous situations. She explained that it had something to do with how his brain was wired. He had spent years as a kid under stress because of the abuse he suffered by this relatives, and then at Hogwarts when year after year he found himself in perilous situations. Apparently the brain is washed with some sort of chemical in stressful situations and over time it becomes used to it. In order to feel "normal," Harry subconsciously was drawn to situations where he may experience similar levels of chemical induced stress hormones. Harry didn't know what to make of that, but had to admit that Hermione was probably right about it. She usually was. Maybe that was why he chosen to come here tonight.

"How have you all been?" Harry asked politely, genuinely curious.

Dudley looked to his mother, and when she gave no response he offered one. "We're good actually. Things were hard there for a while, but we are doing well since Abbey took us in. I'm going to college now."

"Really? What are you studying?"

"Business mostly. Not really sure what I'll do with that though."

Harry nodded. It seemed very much like the Dudley he knew not to have any real career plans.

"I do have a girlfriend though," Dudley said with a smile. He was clearly quite proud. "Her name is Sheila. She's great…. You gotta a girl?"

"Something like that," Harry said softly. He didn't really feel like now was the time to discuss his sexuality. Ron was important to him and he wasn't embarrassed about his relationship with him, but he knew that his present company wouldn't be so accepting.

"Well, that's good," Dudley said, unsure of what to make of Harry's statement.

There was another lull in the conversation and only the clatter of the silverware and plates could be heard. It was cousin that tried to make conversation this time.

"Do you still live with…. uh, people like you?" Dudley asked, trying to be discreet. Abbey knew nothing of his cousin's heritage of course.

Dudley's opinion of witches and wizards had changed drastically after Harry's friends had helped him and his mother. They had known what his family had done to Harry, and yet they still had found it in their hearts to help them find Abigail and escape from his father. It was then that Dudley realized that they weren't something to fear, like he had been taught. They could be kind and helpful. In fact, he became intensely curious about Harry's world after their rescue and often thought about what it would be like to live in it.

"Like you?" Abbey asked, laughing now. "What an absurd thing to say? The boy is no different than you Dud."

Harry looked to his aunt and could see her seething now. It was clear that Petunia did not wish to discuss anything magical. Cautiously he replied, "Yes and no."

"Huh?" Dudley replied, his mouth full of food.

"I do live with someone who is like me but we live in central London in a flat," Harry clarified.

He and Ron had moved into together when they had started the Auror training program last year. Harry had felt bad about leaving home and leaving Sirius all alone, but his godfather had understood. He had known about his relationship with Ron since that summer Harry was rescued. He was happy for them.

"Really?" Dudley asked, seeming confused. "I didn't know you could do that." Dudley apparently thought that wizards could not live in the Muggle world.

Harry grugged. "I can do anything I want."

Dudley raised his eyebrows in surprise but asked nothing more on the subject. Abbey looked perplexed about what they were discussing but didn't probe any further.

"You live in London?" Abbey asked curiously.

Harry nodded.

"Then what are you doing visiting a fruit market here in Scotland?" she asked.

That was certainly a good question. How could Harry explain that he could magically transport any where in the world he wanted to? Or that he liked to visit different places around Britain to do his shopping so that he wouldn't become too conspicuous living in London?

"I was visiting a friend in the area and thought I'd stop and check out the local produce," he finally replied, noticing that Abbey seemed to buy his explanation. He glanced again at his Aunt and could see that she understood the truth.

It was quiet again for another few minutes, as they continued to eat their dinner. Then out of the blue Dudley brought up the one subject that nobody really wanted to talk about it.

"Dad's still in prison, you know. I write to him sometimes."

Harry choked on his food and it was several seconds before he was able to stop coughing. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. He certainly had no intention of discussing anything relating to his uncle.

Petunia glared at her son, her eyes communicating that this was not an appropriate dinner conversation.

Dudley had kept tabs on his father, mostly out of curiosity, and maybe because he felt that someone ought to. His mother had wanted nothing to do with him after they left, and for a long while Dudley didn't want to either. But despite everything Vernon had done to them, he was still his father and he had found it himself to begin to forgive the man. His Aunt Marge had washed her hands of his brother as well. With no one else in the world left to check up on him, the job had fallen onto Dudley to write his father a couple times a year.

He glanced at Harry and saw how immediate the change that came over him was. The young man had stopped eating and seemed to sink almost inward on himself.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you or anything. My Dad was a bastard to you so I thought you'd might like to know that he's still locked up. He isn't due for a parole for another year or so. They made him serve full terms on every charge."

Vernon Dursley had been convicted of driving while under the influence and intoxicated manslaughter. He had killed a man in the accident that had put both he and Harry into the hospital. It was because of the accident that the abuse Harry had suffered at the hands of his relatives was discovered. Vernon was also serving terms for severe abuse and neglect of a minor.

"That's enough Dudley!" his mother said, slamming her fork down onto her plate. It was the first time she had spoken all evening.

"What? I thought he might want to know," he replied innocently enough.

Harry could see that Dudley wasn't trying to be intentionally cruel bringing the subject up. He was just a little dense sometimes.

"He doesn't deserve to know!" Petunia shouted.

Abigail looked at her friend and reached a hand out to her. "What's wrong? Why can't he know?"

"It doesn't matter," Petunia mumbled, looking away in embarrassment for her sudden outburst.

Lightning suddenly flashed and thunder rolled across the sky, filling the house with its ominous presence. Rain began to pelt the side of the house, blowing sideways in the high winds. The stormy weather seemed to signal a change in the climate inside the house and Harry was filled with a sense of foreboding that this situation was about to get a whole lot worse.

Dudley didn't say anything more on the matter, not wanting to upset his mother any further. Harry, however, couldn't leave the subject alone. He had hoped that maybe things could be different now. Dudley was obviously trying, but it was clear now that there would be no reconciliation with his aunt.

"Why does it still have to be this way?" Harry asked quietly, setting his own fork down now. "Why can't you just get past it all?"

"Get past it all? How dare you!" Petunia replied angrily. "You have no right to come here and act like everything I went through didn't matter."

"Of course it mattered. I went through it too! Or did you forget?" he replied angrily.

Abigail looked back and forth between them trying to understand. Petunia had never told her about what Harry what went through living in that house. All she had been told was that the boy had runaway and they had no contact with him since.

"How could I forget! It's all your fault Vernon turned out the way he did!" Petunia yelled, standing up now and tossing her napkin onto the table.

"My fault?"

"Yes, yours!"

"How!" Harry yelled, standing up now too.

Petunia pointed a finger at him and said, "You act like you don't know, but I know that you do!"

"Know what?" Harry yelled, incredulously.

Petunia threw up her hands in frustration. "You must know that if you were never born how different things would have been."

Harry's blood ran cold at the statement. He had thought about that very fact so many times. His parents would be alive. Sirius never would have gone to jail for all those years. Remus wouldn't have fallen into depression for so long. So many things would have been different. But Harry also knew that Voldemort might never have been defeated if he weren't born and where would the world be then?

"Petunia, what are you saying?" Abigail asked, rising slowly to her feet. "Why are you saying all this to Harry?"

Dudley rose to his feet as well but stayed quiet. The four of them squared off around the table.

"It's because she hates me," Harry replied.

"Of course I hate you. Everything that has ever happened to my family is because of what you are!"

Harry didn't know how to respond to that statement. It was filled with so much conviction and obvious history that he didn't have privy to that he couldn't help but want to understand.

"What do you mean?"

"It all started with that damn prophecy!" Petunia yelled, heedless now that their conversation was being overhead by a Muggle that was completely confused by what they were saying.

"Prophecy?" Dudley and Abigail said unison, obviously perplexed by the situation.

"What about it?" Harry hissed, surprised that his aunt even knew about it. His mother must have told her or something.

Petunia's eyes narrowed in hatred. "Did you know that my parents were killed because that madman was searching for you?"

"Mum, is that true?" Dudley asked, scarcely believing it.

Harry's felt a shiver run down his spine. He had never been told about his grandparents before. He had always assumed that they had died of natural causes or something. He never suspected that they had been murdered. Why hadn't anyone ever told him?

Harry shook his head numbly. "No, I didn't know."

"And then he killed my sister and her useless husband, leaving me with you!"

Harry could see now how the deaths of so many family members- indirectly caused by Voldemort's pursuit to kill the one that could bring his downfall- could cause someone to become so embittered. But that did not quell the righteous fury that burned inside of him for being treated so poorly as a child.

"So you didn't have to take me in! You could have turned me away!"

"I had no choice!"

"Of course you did!" Harry retorted.

Petunia's eyes darted toward her son and then back at Harry again. "No, I didn't. It was part of the deal I made," she said fiercely, closing her eyes now as if she were in pain.

"What deal?" Harry asked.

"It doesn't matter."

"What deal?" he repeated loudly.

Petunia shook her head, pursing her lips tightly.

"What deal, Mum?" Dudley asked desperately, seemingly on behalf of his cousin.

Petunia opened her eyes and looked to her son. A tear slid down her face and she hastily wiped it away, looking quite panicked now.

"You have to understand, my love, I was only doing it to protect you. I was always trying to protect you."

"Protect me from what?" Dudley asked, approaching his mother.

"From yourself!" Petunia said, hanging her head in her hands and weeping openly now.

Dudley tried to pry his mother's hands away from her face. "What are you talking about? How were you protecting me?"

"Even before Harry came I noticed that you were different," she began. "I tried to hide it from Vernon, but it was so clear. So much like Lily… I couldn't bear to let him be apart of that world. So I made a deal with Dumbledore to stop it… in exchange for taking Harry in."

"Who's Dumbledore?" Abigail asked, to no reply.

Harry's mouth hung open in understanding. Dudley was a wizard. A wizard!

His cousin was magical and Dumbledore must have bound his magic- something considered taboo in the wizarding community. In fact, such a practice was considered to be Dark Arts. Harry couldn't help but wonder the headmaster's reason for doing some thing so drastic, something so reprehensible. Was he left with no other option? Was his actions merely to ensure Harry's future role in the prophecy?

It seemed Dumbledore was willing to anything to protect Harry. He had wanted Harry in his aunt's care because of the magical blood wards that surrounded his relative's home and apparently stripping Dudley of his magic was the only way to do it. Could he have possibly have understood the life that he had inadvertently condemned Harry to as a result? Harry was dumbfounded with shock.

"What? What are you talking about?" Dudley asked, still not understanding.

"It's doesn't matter now Dudley. I took care of everything," Petunia said to her son, looking desperate.

"Of course it matters! What _deal_ did you make?"

"Really, it doesn't matter. Dumbledore took care of it. He made it… better," Petunia tried to explain.

"What are you saying? None of his makes sense!" Dudley shouted, pacing the room now.

Harry shook his head in disbelief still trying to understand the situation. "Dumbledore made it better… but it wasn't enough… was it?" he asked, his voice a haunted whisper. "You were still scared that he'd turn out like Lily? Like me? Because you were forced to take care of me and couldn't hide it. And Dumbledore wouldn't do the same thing he did to Dudley to me, would he?"

Petunia shook her head, still crying.

"And you couldn't hide it from Vernon," Harry continued, finally beginning to understand.

Petunia wiped way her tears and nodded. "He was so upset when he found out. He didn't know about Dudley, but he knew about your unnaturalness from the start. We agreed that it had to be stomped out…"

"Stomped out? Stomped out! My word, Petunia, what unnaturalness are you talking about?" Abigail asked fearfully. "I can't imagine what could be so horrible that it had to be stomped out!"

"You don't understand, Abbey. The boy is… well, abnormal… and I didn't want his freakishness hurting…I wouldn't allow it."

"Petunia, do you hear yourself? You make it sound like the boy was some second class citizen in your home!" Abigail admonished in disbelief.

"You don't know the half of it!" Harry retorted.

"We did what we had to keep Dudley safe… to keep them apart," said Petunia, looking quite uncomfortable.

Another flash of lightning and a roll of thunder rumbled through the house, interrupting their discussion. Harry felt charged. Years of pent up angst bubbled forth and exploded into magnificent fury.

"To keep us apart? So that is why I was locked in the cupboard under the stairs for a decade… why I was forced to do endless chores while Dudley led a pampered life… why I was deprived of clothing and food … why I was deprived of toys or presents of any kind… why I was beaten nearly every day… why I wasn't allowed to be loved!" Harry said, his chest rising and falling as he became out of breath from all the shouting.

Dudley's eyes widened in surprise as if he was truly understanding for the first time what Harry had gone through. "Mom… you really did all of that to keep us apart? Why?" Dudley asked, looking quite devastated.

"So you wouldn't turn out like him," she explained quietly, the tears falling down his face. "So you wouldn't be a freak like him. I couldn't lose you too…"

Dudley shook his head in disbelief. "No… I can't be…"

Harry couldn't take any more of this situation. He finally understood what had happened in his horrid past. At one time he thought that knowing might make him feel better, but now it only made him feel worse. Unable to stand there another minute, he stormed across the kitchen and headed toward the front door.

He heard Abigail fiercely whisper, "Petunia, what have you done?"

Harry pushed open the screen door, and heard it clattered loudly behind him. He ran out into the pouring rain, breathing hard and desperately trying not to cry. The sky lit up brightly as a flash lightning bolted across the clouds.

"Harry!" a voice shouted, running after him. "Harry! Wait!"

Harry turned to see Dudley following him. He came to stop and waited for him to catch up. Both were soaking wet now, their feet muddy from the ground, and looking quite pathetic.

"What!" Harry asked, his eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry!" Dudley shouted desperately. "I didn't understand it then. I still don't think I do, but I'm sorry. For everything… You never should have been treated that way."

Harry didn't know how to respond so he said nothing at all, blinking away tears and the rain that was cascading off his hair and down his face in rivulets.

"Does this mean that I'm like you?" Dudley asked, still desperate for answers.

"Yes… or at least you were. Dumbledore stripped you of your magic," Harry replied loudly over the pouring rain.

"But how is that possible? How was I born that way?"

Harry shrugged. "My mum was muggleborn too."

"Huh?"

"Someone born to nonmagical people- Muggles."

"So what does this mean?" Dudley asked, wiping the rain out of his face.

"I don't know…"

Neither one said anything for a moment, unsure how to leave this situation.

"I need to go…" Harry said, still feeling the desperate need to get away.

"Okay… but can we keep in touch?"

Harry thought about it for a moment and finally nodded. It many ways it wasn't Dudley's found for what had transpired when they were kids and he seemed to be making an honest effort to reconcile. "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

"Okay."

"I'll write or something… soon," said Harry.

Dudley nodded and waved goodbye.

Harry backed away a few paces, raised his wand and Apparated.

He arrived at a location just outside the Burrow. He could see the anniversary party was still in full swing. He stood there for a few moments trying to collect himself and stop the tears from flowing. He focused on all the happy memories he had here and how much he wanted to see his boyfriend, pulling himself together emotionally. He quickly ran through the rain toward the house and up the porch steps. He stopped just inside the doorway and cast a drying spell.

"Hey Harry!" one of the Weaselys called to him.

Harry waved a hello at a redhead, not caring to notice which one it was, and then pushed his way through the throng of people, searching for one person in particular. He found him talking to Hermione and Neville near the fireplace. He made his way across throng of people to reach him, but was stopped by his godfather half way there.

"Hey kiddo… are you okay?" asked Sirius, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Harry looked up into his worried blue eyes and saw understanding there. "Ron told you, didn't he?"

Sirius nodded. "I wanted to go after you and give that woman a piece of my mind… but Ron said you needed to do this."

Harry nodded and took a deep breath, unsure of what to say.

"Are you okay? You look upset. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and allowed himself to be pulled into a one arm hug. Sirius more than anyone understood what had happened to Harry in the Dursley's care. He had taken his godson in after being awarded guardianship just before Harry's fifth year. Sirius had spent many nights holding the young teen after suffering from a nightmare.

Sirius looked disappointed but understood. "Then promise me that you'll come home for a visit soon."

Harry smiled up at his godfather. "I will. I promise."

Sirius kissed the top of his head and then playfully shoved Harry toward Ron's direction. "Go on then. You know you want to."

Harry looked at him gratefully and finished crossing the room to read his boyfriend.

"Harry!" Ron said brightly, when he finally spotted him. Ron was always rather chipper when he drank. He set his drink down on the mantle and turned to greet him.

Harry was quickly embraced in Ron's loving arms. They held onto each other tightly, relishing the comfort of each other's presence. Ron then pulled back and kissed Harry firmly on the lips. Harry noticed that Hermione and Neville had politely stepped away, and he began to wonder how many people Ron had told about his "dinner" tonight.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked, seeing how red Harry's eyes were.

Harry sighed deeply and said, "I am now."

"Did you get the answers you needed?" Ron asked, running his fingers through Harry's messy hair.

"Sort of… but can we talk about it later? I kinda don't want to talk about it right now," Harry said, sniffling softly.

"Sure," said Ron, giving him a smile. Harry could see that smile didn't quite reach Ron's eyes this time and that there was worry for him in those pale blue orbs.

Harry smiled in return, hoping to diffuse some of that worry, though it certainly wasn't misplaced. Harry had a lot to think about now, and he wondered if seeing his family again would bring back all the nightmares he once suffered from.

He turned to watch the merriment, his arms still wrapped around Ron's waist. He desperately tried to forget all that had transpired today and soak up the love that was so evident in this tiny house.

He was surrounded by all his friends and family. This was where he belonged.

This was home.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, I hoped you enjoyed this rather long epilogue. I have been working on this for the better part of a year, and I'm so glad that I finally got it done. Petunia is an extremely hard character to write for. I tried to keep her in character for the most part, but it is a challenge. I hope I succeeded in that endeavor. A big thanks goes out to my beta Drae, who helped me with this piece of writing. Well, let me know what you think!


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